Blackmailed Teen Submissive

A chill went up my spine at the harsh reality of the fact it was filmed.

As I stood there, she returned and added, "After I fuck Julie, of course."

She obviously could see my crush on Julie as well.

Fuck!

How was I going to get out of this predicament?

Either way, I didn't have time to deal with it now. I slid into my three inch heels and went to look in the mirror realizing I hadn't really showered.

My hair was still in a ponytail and my face was a mess.

I pulled my hair out of the ponytail and tried to make it look good.

I washed my face, getting rid of all incriminating evidence, and put on makeup.

I wasn't happy with my final look, but I was very late.

My head still spinning with what had transpired, I headed to the restaurant.

At dinner, I was distracted. I was unable to stop thinking about what happened. Why did I give in so easily? How was I going to get out of this predicament?

My Mom noticed. "Are you okay, Erin?"

"Um, yeah, just tired," I answered, unable to tell her what was really bothering me.

"It was a grueling match," Mom nodded.

I nodded, even as I replayed the grueling aftermath that exhausted me and had me not only rattled by the humiliation, but also questioning my sexuality.

"Well, you can have tomorrow off," Dad, also my coach, offered.

"Thanks," I sarcastically replied. Although I loved tennis, my Dad was an intense coach and rarely gave me a day off.

It was as we were waiting for dessert that I got a text.

I looked at it and my heart fell in my stomach. It was from Kelly.

Slut Barbie,

Punishment 1!

Bathroom now.

Last stall.

Time for dessert.

I stammered, "I-I-I need to go to the washroom."

I quickly left the table and headed to the bathroom. I needed to make it clear that she couldn't do shit like this.

I reached the bathroom, got to the last stall and began, flames of fire in my eyes, "How dare you interrupt my dinner with my parents."

"That's four," she said nonchalantly. "Now close the door and get on your fucking knees. It is time for dessert."

"No!" I defiantly responded.

She sighed. "You really are a slow learner. Explains why I usually beat you."

"You didn't today," I countered smugly.

"Didn't I?" she questioned. "You ate my cunt, while being videotaped and then became my sex slave. That's a pretty big win in my opinion."

Suddenly he door opened.

Kelly whispered, "Get on your knees and serve your Mistress or I make this a spectacle when I go and sit with your parents and show them this."

She turned her phone to me and tears began to form. Thankfully she had the sound turned off but there was me licking pussy, fucking myself with my racket and looking up and saying something.

There was no clear picture of her.

She whispered, as all the colour drained from my face, "I can turn up the volume if you wish."

I shook my head no.

"Knees," she ordered again in a whisper as someone closed the door a couple stalls down.

I obeyed, feeling utterly helpless.

Kelly lifted up her hippy fifties skirt and I wordlessly leaned forward and began licking, even as tears streamed down my face.

A toilet flushed.

I licked fast, trying to get her off as quickly as possible.

My mom was intuitive and would know something was wrong if I was gone too long.

A tap was turned on.

Kelly whispered, "Suck my clit, pussy slut."

I obeyed, thinking that would get her off quicker.

The door opened again.

"Thank God, we're alone again," Kelly said, "I hate being quiet."

I wanted to take a shot, but didn't, instead focusing on getting her off.

"Julie really enjoyed watching you fuck your racket," Kelly said, "I think it wold be a huge seller online if you ever disobey again."

I couldn't believe I had done that. I couldn't believe I'd allowed myself to be manipulated. I couldn't believe I was on my knees, in a classy washroom, licking my enemy's pussy.

And... I couldn't find a way out of this. I was at her whim and she knew it.

"Think your Mom eats pussy?" Kelly asked, as her hand went through my hair and pulled me deeper into her wetness.

I was mortified by her question. I pleaded, "Please leave my family out of this."

"Or your sister?" Kelly added.

My sister was a year older than me and going to the same college Julie was. We were very close and she would have been at this dinner if she wasn't on a flight back from Europe at the moment after spending a week touring Italy and France.

I again repeated, pleading, "Please, just use me."

"Oh, that I plan to do," she moaned, as she began grinding her cunt on my face.

I hated that I enjoyed her taste.

I hated that I was again dripping wet.

"I'm about to come, my pet slut," she moaned, before seconds later coating my face with her juices.

I hungrily lapped up her juices, the taste undeniably addicting.

Once done, she pushed me away and smiled, "Fuck you look hot on your knees with my cum all over your face."

I was mortified at both the reality of the situation and what I had just done and the frustration that my pussy was on fire,

Suddenly the door opened again and I heard my Mom ask, "Erin, you in here?"

Kelly, thankfully, stood up onto the toilet seat and whispered, "You may go, my slut."

I whispered back, "Thank you," as I stood up and replied, "Yes, Mom." I quickly made sure my outfit looked normal and headed out, even though I knew my face was coated with Kelly's cum.

"Oh, good," she said, "just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed distracted."

"Just tired," I said, which was actually true.

"We got your dessert packed up for you," Mom said, before going into a stall... thankfully not the one I was just in.

As soon as she closed the stall, I went to the sink to wash my face.

Kelly came up behind me and whispered, "See you soon, slut," and left the washroom.

I finished up, still drowning in shame, before heading out before I had to talk to my Mom.

We drove home, my parents once again saying how proud they were of me.

Yet, all I could think of was what would you think if you knew what I had done since my victory.

In my bedroom, in what should have been the best night of my career so far, I cried. I didn't see a way out of my situation and couldn't understand why my pussy got so wet both times I submitted to Kelly.

As I tried to sleep, my pussy was still burning.

Frustrated, I pulled out my magic wand, which I had bought secretly online, turned it on high, and got myself off.

It didn't take long, but as I closed my eyes and tried to fantasize about Channing Tatum, like I always did, it was Kelly who popped into my head. Yet, although I was repulsed by my own fantasy, I kept the massager on high until I reached my much needed orgasm.

Once done, I shook my head. How was I going to deal with this?

Exhausted from the tennis match and the sexual debauchery that followed, I eventually fell asleep.

.....

It was three days later and I was finally thinking maybe Kelly was bluffing when I got a text from her just as I arrived at the practice court change room.

My slut,

Punishment number 2.

No panties today.

I sighed. The skirts we wore for tennis were ridiculously short and it would be almost impossible to not flash someone my pussy or ass if I was to not wear anything under my uniform.

I texted back:

Please don't make me do this.

I got no response.

I got undressed and put on my practice attire. But instead of wearing my skirt as usual, I put on track pants... after taking off my panties.

I went to practice, happy that I had obeyed the order completely and yet avoided the potential public humiliation that may go with it.

My dad looked at me confused as I walked on the court, but knowing I hadn't been myself since my victory, he didn't question it. He was a smart man.

Practice was a disaster as I kept screwing up, sensing that I was being watched.

After an hour, I said, "I need a break."

Dad nodded, clearly frustrated by my lack of focus and yet not saying it in words.

I sat down, took a long drink of water, the summer heat pounding. I noticed my phone was flashing. I should have ignored it, but I didn't. I grabbed it and saw two texts from Kelly.

Slut,

Nice move. I assume you obeyed the order.

I expect evidence while you are on the court that you obeyed.

Slut,

Change room as soon as you get this!

I looked around, wondering where she was. I sighed, but obeyed worrying what she may do if I didn't.

Once in the change room, I was surprised to find no one there.

I quickly went pee and was washing my hands when I heard her voice. "Show me you obeyed, slut."

A chill went up my back at hearing her voice.

I looked at her in the mirror and said, "Can we find a solution to this?"

"To what?" she asked.

"This lesbian thing," I said, turning around, seeing her holding a tennis ball in her hand.

"We have one," she shrugged, "You obey me without hesitation."

"How much?" I asked.

She laughed. "This isn't about money."

"Then what is it about?" I asked, glaring at her.

"Power," she revealed, before adding, "now show me you obeyed."

I sighed dramatically, but did as I was told. I pulled my track pants down revealing I had obeyed.

"Good girl," she complimented, even though it was dripping with patronizing contempt.

"I need to get back to the court," I said.

"Of course," she nodded, moving the tennis ball to my pussy and rubbing it up and down.

It felt weird, but oddly turned me on.

"I bet you're such a slut I could fit this in you," she said, although she didn't try doing it... thank God.

"Please, stop," I begged while a moan escaped me.

"You want me to get you off?" she asked.

I shook my head no, even though my whole body was firing up.

"You sure?" she questioned. "Your cheeks are getting red."

"Please, I need to get back out there," I pleaded.

"I need to get going too," she nodded, continuing rubbing the ball up and down my now wet pussy lips.

I just allowed her to molest me with a tennis ball for a couple of minutes, closing my eyes and enjoying the awkward pleasure she was giving me.

She then said, even as she kept rubbing me, "Punishment three. You will serve this wet ball with your juices on it to your father."

"You can't be serious?" I asked, even as my pussy begged to have something inside it.

"Do it, slut," she ordered, as she handed me the ball.

I couldn't believe how wet it was.

"If you disobey, I will punish you harshly. I'll be watching," she said, as she walked away.

I quickly pulled up my track pants, my head again spinning.

I returned to the court, the wet ball in my hands.

Dad asked, from the other side of the court, "You ready?"

I nodded, looking around for Kelly.

I didn't see her anywhere, yet I sensed her.

I bounced the wet ball a dozen times as I moved to serve, trying to get my wetness off it.

Finally, I served it.

I don't know if it was the adrenaline or something else, but I powered a perfect serve past my dad, something I rarely did.

"Nice," he approved, before saying, "again."

The next hour went by with a much better performance by me.

When I went to the change room again, I was thankful to see no Kelly, but rather a couple other club members getting changed.

I showered, changed and headed out, seeing my phone was flashing again.

I sighed, but checked it.

Slut

I left a present in your car.

Since you are already dressed as a slut I want you to go to the west side strip mall and stand in front of The Love Boutique

I again looked around. Did she see what I was wearing? It wasn't slutty. Just a flower sundress, a logical choice for a day hitting 99 out.

And The Love Boutique? It was an adult sex shop. Thankfully, the strip mall was on the opposite side of where I lived... on the side of the tracks where Kelly resided.

Oddly, even though I hated Kelly, I felt compelled to obey.

I drove the ten minutes to the strip mall, stopping at 7-11 for a Slurpee to quench my thirst, and parked a few stores away from the Love Boutique, not wanting someone I knew to see me there... which I realized was stupid since I was apparently supposed to stand in front of it anyways. Reluctantly, I got out of my car and went to the store. While I waited impatiently, the heat pounding down, two college aged girls went in, a mother and daughter looking pair came out, a creepy man went in, and a mid-fifties looking married couple went in. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of people in their fifties still finding ways to spice up their sex life.

Checking my phone, I had been there over five minutes.

I was considering leaving a couple of minutes later when I received a text.

Slut,

One of my pets will be coming to see you to check that you are still not wearing panties as instructed.

By the way, where are the thigh highs?

I sighed. I had put my panties back on after I showered, truthfully not even considering that I wasn't supposed to.

I also only wore thigh highs when I was going out and definitely not in this heat.

I was about to text back when I saw a redhead coming towards me.

A redhead I knew.

A redhead I had faced many times on the courts over the past couple years.

A redhead I had considered a friend, a friend being defined as someone I talked to at tennis tournaments and so forth, not someone I partied with.

She wasn't under Kelly's thumb too was she?

I prayed she wasn't coming to talk to me, but that prayer wasn't answered as she walked directly to me. She greeted, "Hi, Erin."

"Hi, Angela," I replied, my body full of anxiety.

"I'm surprised she got you, too," she said, answering the question I hadn't asked.

"What do you mean?" I replied, playing dumb and not yet ready to admit anything.

She laughed softly. "I was in denial at first, too. I just thought you were stronger than me."

I asked, "How did she get you?"

Although I'm pretty, Angela was drop dead gorgeous. With flaming red hair and green eyes she was also exotic.

"She blackmailed me after I beat her for the first time," she answered.

"Me too," I quickly replied, and then cursed myself for admitting it.

"Interesting," she said.

"She's a sore fucking loser," I said, feeling I had an ally in my plight.

Angela said, "That is probably true. I recall her saying that she always wins in the end."

"How did she blackmail you?" I asked.

"We go to the same school and the same parties," Angela began, "and, well, when I drink I can get a little wild."

"Can't we all," I added, thinking of my last drunk night leading to my first lesbian encounter.

"Damn gin," she laughed.

"The boys call it panty remover," I joked.

"It was for me," she nodded. "It was also moral remover."

"What happened?" I asked, curious.

"I ended up being involved in a gangbang," she admitted.

"No way," I gasped, unable to envision Angela in such a compromising situation.

"Four guys and it was all filmed, unbeknownst to me," she replied, "even though I talk directly to the phone on more than one occasion."

"Wow." I said, "I'm so sorry."

She shrugged, "Truthfully, I've always been a slut. I just usually only did one guy at a time."

"Seriously?" I asked, still surprised.

Another shrug. "I don't even mind the reputation. I am what I am. But, the video of me taking three guys at once."

"Three at once?" I questioned.

"I'm a slut," she repeated, before saying bluntly, "and sluts take it in the ass."

I felt like I was being pranked. Angela, the sweetest of the girls I competed against, took it in the ass. Unreal. I said, "I would never do that."

"Oh, I wouldn't hold your breath on that belief," Angela said, "Mistress Kelly will definitely want to take your ass, especially if you're a backdoor virgin."

"You can't be serious," I said, still feeling like I was in an episode of Pranked.

"You are so cute in your denial," she smiled.

"I can't believe Kelly blackmailed you too," I replied.

"Like I said, even when she loses, she wins," she said.

"We need to join together and stop her," I said, finally seeing my opportunity out of this.

"That would be a mistake," Angela said. "Mistress has a nasty vengeful side in her and she deals with disobedience harshly."

"How harsh could it be?" I asked.

"You don't want to know," Angela said, her facial expression changing to one of discomfort.

"What did she make you do?" I asked, suddenly angry that Kelly would do something that would make Angela literally cower inside.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, "but trust me, don't disobey."

"I can't keep letting her control and humiliate me," I responded, trying to get through to her.

"The more you fight it, the more she controls and humiliates," she warned, and her tone implied she meant it.

"There must be a way," I sighed.

"Lift up your dress, Erin," Angela ordered, a moment later.

"Excuse me?" I questioned, her demand surprising me even though after all I just heard it shouldn't have.

"I am supposed to make sure you're not wearing panties," she answered.

"I am," I admitted, much easier than lifting up my dress in public.

"Shit," she sighed.

"What?" I asked.

"That means a punishment," she said.

"I've already received three," I shrugged, "and survived."

"That nonchalant attitude is going to get you in big trouble," she warned.

"Fuck this," I said. "I'm not going to be her little puppet."

"Don't do this," Angela pleaded.

"I'm out of here," I said, beginning to walk back to my car.

"You're going to regret this," she called out.

I didn't care.

I was done playing this sick, fucked up game.

I got in the car and texted:

Bitch

We are done.

I drove home, feeling oddly exhilarated at my decision.

There was no way I could turn into Angela. I couldn't live my life in fear.

Although I kept expecting a threatening text back, none came.

Next day none came either.

The day after that I saw her at the practice court and she ignored me completely.

That night, I finally relaxed. She was bluffing.

The next day, just before lunch I got a text.

Every time I got a text now, I was suddenly riddled with anxiety.

But it was just my Mom.

Sweetheart

Can you please come home ASAP?

We need to talk.

My eyes went wide.

Did she know?

I texted back:

Is everything okay?

She responded back:

Everything is fine. Just need to chat with you about something without your father.

Again I was curious, why would Dad need to not be there, but a wave of relief hit me as it was likely not about my indiscretion.

I texted back:

On my way home.

I drove home, wondering if something was wrong in their marriage. There had been no hints at all of any problems. No, it couldn't be that.

Then it hit me.

Dad's birthday was in three weeks, his 40^th and she probably wanted to plan a surprise party for him.

Relieved I knew what the conversation was going to be about, I drove home relaxed.

I parked, walked in and called out, "Mom, I'm home."

She called back, a moment later, "I'm in your bedroom."

That was odd. Why would she be in my bedroom?

I walked down the hall and began hearing moans... undeniably moans of sex.

I froze just outside my door.